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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425160">I'd rather play my guitar, thank you very much</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_beginnings/pseuds/SilverMaxwell'>SilverMaxwell (Endless_beginnings)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the good stuff [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Kissing, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:08:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_beginnings/pseuds/SilverMaxwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>-- Heya! Hope you dont have many requests, but I'd love some hurt/comfort/fluff with mcstarr? Like Paul is really sressed out, and Ringo helps out calming him and relaxing him? And maybe the other two can come back and join the comforting moment? I let you find a reason for his stress tho--</p><p>While filming for a hard days night, Paul doubts his acting abilities...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the good stuff [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'd rather play my guitar, thank you very much</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Im back babbyyyy!!<br/>I love some mcstarr</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Cut!" The director yelled out.</p><p> </p><p>Paul could only wince, pressing his lips together as he turned to look at the carpet of the train car.</p><p>He had messed his lines up.</p><p>
  <em> Again.</em>
</p><p>In front of him John groans as he leaned back into his chair, George's shoulders slumped with a sigh and Ringo looks up at the director.</p><p>Filming had been fun for them. Though their days were long, the movie was about <em> them. </em>They just had to act like themselves, just playing up some parts of their personalities.</p><p>But for the past couple of days Paul had been <em> off </em>.</p><p>Messing up lines left and right and completely forgetting cues. He had even tripped over some audio chords and <em> broken </em> them, successful haulting production for a day-and-half just to get replacements.</p><p>And as the director rubbed his eyes tiredly behind the main camera Paul wanted to sink and disappear into the very chair he sat in.</p><p>"We've been going at it for a while now…" he began, a few crew members stared directly at Paul, some visibly annoyed.</p><p>For a moment he was  <em> mad. </em>Mad that they chose to single him out. </p><p>Paul wondered if his bandmates had noticed their looks.</p><p>But it soon morphed into a heavy feeling in his gut. One of disappointment, aimed only at himself.</p><p> </p><p>The director wasn't the only one tired. The other Beatles wore similar weary expressions and though the scene didn't require much physical action, the repetitiveness was getting to them.</p><p> </p><p>"I think we all deserve a short break" the director continued, as crew members began shuffling down to either one of the spare cabins or the dining car.</p><p> </p><p>Paul doesn't bother telling the others where he's going, he gets up, stretches his legs for a moment, ignoring the questioning glance Ringo gives him and quickly walks out of the room. His face feels hot.</p><p> </p><p>The train is thankfully devoid of any <em> actual </em>passengers, so Paul doesn't bump into anyone as he makes his way to one of the last train cars, no one to ask about why he looked so hurt.</p><p> </p><p>Paul finds himself in front of an empty train car room. Empty of <em> people </em> at least, as it was currently being used to store camera and audio equipment, as well as a few lamps and whatever props they were to use later.</p><p> </p><p>So why would a <em> Beatle </em> bother being inside a room like this? When there were much nicer and <em> empty </em>rooms upfront?</p><p> </p><p>Paul opens the door and stepped inside.</p><p> </p><p>He moved around some equipment, freeing himself a spot to sit in. The lights were off for whatever reason and the curtains to the window drawn down. The room was dark and Paul preferred it that way.</p><p> </p><p>Paul tried getting as comfortable as possible, but the new suit was stiff and he didn't have much leg room. It was silent, save for the sound of the train moving.</p><p> </p><p>Paul hadn't gotten much sleep the past few days. He hasn't eaten properly either, too busy rereading the lines on his script (his <em> simple </em> and <em> uncomplicated </em> lines).</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that's why he's crying.</p><p> </p><p>They prick at his eyes. They don't fall but he doesn't bother wiping them away.</p><p> </p><p>He's just stressed, he thinks.</p><p> </p><p>He's better at music than he is at acting.</p><p> </p><p>He's better with music because when he plays people don't wait for him to finish, don't share looks of disbelief, don't go "Is <em> this </em> the best he can do?".</p><p> </p><p>God, he was a <em> horrible </em>actor.</p><p> </p><p>Paul's thrown from his thoughts by the sound of the door sliding open.</p><p> </p><p>Paul panics for a moment, but when he sees that it's just Ringo, who's staring at him with the same worried expression from earlier he relaxes a little. It doesn't stop him from feeling embarrassed, though.</p><p> </p><p>"Paul?" Ringo starts gently, stepping over a few things as he makes his way to him.</p><p>Paul doesn't say anything but does scoot over a bit, inviting the drummer closer.</p><p> </p><p>When Ringo sits down Paul wastes no time leaning his head on the older's shoulder, seeking comfort as he buries himself into the others welcoming arms. Relaxing a considerable bit as he feels a hand run through his hair.</p><p>For a moment neither speaks, Paul simply wished to be back home, away from everything.</p><p> </p><p>"I can't do it, Ritchie" Paul quietly admits.</p><p>Ringo doesn't say anything, his head moves so it rests on top of Paul's.</p><p>"Can't do what?" Ringo asks, </p><p>"<em> Act" </em> Paul bitterly answers back. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't think I'm very good, either" Ringo confesses, "or the others". </p><p>Paul frowns as he takes Ringo's hand into his, simply holding it as he toys with one of the rings. He lets himself be distracted for a moment, as he wonders if the jewel in it is real.</p><p> </p><p>"You're better at this than all of us" Paul sighs. Above him Ringo purses his lips.</p><p>Before Ringo can speak again Paul continues on with his rant.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm terrible at this, the others are tired of doing the same things over again, the crew is sick of me messing up…"  Paul can feel his frustrations growing.</p><p> "... I try my <em> best </em> Ritchie, I honestly do, but it's… It's never enough for them…"</p><p> </p><p>Paul doesn't register the tears until Ringo sits up and grabs his face, kissing each of them away as they roll down his cheeks before settling on his lips. Paul can taste the salt for a moment as his eyes flutter closed, the kiss is sweet and innocent, Paul grabs one of the hands that hold his face as they part and looks at a serious pair of blue eyes.</p><p>"Paul.." Ringo starts, pulling him in again for a brief kiss. "You're not as bad as you think you are, we've never done… <em> this </em> before, all of us are trying to do our best," Ringo tries to reassure him. "We can help you if you want, make sure you have your lines and go over our scenes" Paul nods along. "You'll learn easily, and if not we'll just enjoy ourselves, maybe you'll even want to make more movies in the future.."</p><p>Ringo's smile is bright, and <em> reassuring </em>. Paul doesn't know what to say, words escaping him.</p><p> </p><p>Instead he leans in, hoping the kiss will say it for him.</p><p> </p><p>An hour passes by as they lay in the room, both <em> almost </em>falling asleep. When a knock is heard from the door.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you two still dressed?" John teases as he opens the door, George right behind him.</p><p>Paul rolls his eyes as Ringo laughs.</p><p>"You alright, Paul? We saw you storm off and couldn't find you-" George immediately begins, the other two don't bother stepping into the room, already too crowded. "We would have found you sooner had Geo not stopped for lunch" John interrupts as George narrows his eyes at him.</p><p>"And John yelled at some of the crew for looking at you funny" George finished off. John simply shrugged his shoulders.</p><p>Paul chuckled at that, sitting up a bit more, wiping at his cheeks as to appear more presentable, the two newcomers choosing not to comment.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Johnny" Paul smiled, John pretended to tip his imaginary hat. </p><p> </p><p>True to Ringo's word, later that night while they were holed up in their hotel room, they took their time on the script.</p><p> </p><p>((And if Paul got distracted by the proud smile Ringo wore or by the brief kisses they shared well, acting didn't mean everything to him.))</p><p><br/>
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